Look at that pansy. He’s not even touching my hand. Switzerland’s softened the cracker. And I told him so.

That totally pissed him off. Yup. He’s still got it.

“Everything’s fine here. Hope you’re having fun without us. Booo-wah-ha-ha-ha!”

Can someone call my neighbor and make sure the house is in one piece?

“No Princess, I don’t wanna play because I have an owie on my paw.”

“That’s OK Big Boy. Hey, remember that time you did THIS to me: …

… And you made me all cracker-faced for the world to see?”

“I don’t like the direction this is going Princess…”

“Revenge is a dish that’s sweet and non-fattening.”

“Payback’s a bitch.”

Last week I brought Loki and Juno for a trial test day at Bernard’s kennel. Let’s face it. The place is a dog luxury spa. It has a huge garden to romp in. There are no cages. Dogs have access to the garden and house all day long and they sleep in the house. They go on long off-leash walks in the country with Bernard and his dog and  they get to behave like dogs. Juno passed the test with flying colors.

And Loki?

Well, Bernard was brutally honest with me. While he got along with all the dogs, it was touch and go for a few hours. Loki protested for two hours, scratching the doors and trying to jump the 8-foot fence. I swear on my secret stash of Lindt chocolate bars that I saw Loki’s head pop up over that 8-foot fence three times as I drove off.  Bernard said he almost called me at 10 a.m. to tell me it wasn’t going to work. But then Loki calmed and cuddled with Bernard and all was well.

This week we head off to Provence for a short holiday and leave the dogs at Bernard’s spa. It pains me, but it will be good for him. He needs to learn to stand on his own four paws. He’s lucky to have Juno and Marley, their new hiking pal, staying there at the same time.

In the end Bernard said, “Juno is sweet, a little shy and not dominant. Loki was very nervous when you left, but he is not dominant.” Yeah. Right, Bernard.

I made a mistake and didn’t get Juno vaccinated. She caught it from Loki.

 And now she looks like this. 

Internet: save your doggie and yourself. Vaccinate against crackery-nosinous.

A carefree afternoon on the shores of Lac Leman.

An unsuspecting Siberian princess stops for a refreshing drink.

A barbarian attacks her.

Her husky scruff is too difficult for him to resist.

How quickly he forgets the Lac Leman-ness monster lurking in the shallow shores below.

Ker-Plunk! Down goes the barbarian!

“Hey pansy boy! Where you going? The Lac Leman-ness monster is just getting started!”

My little boy is growing up and finally learning to swim.

He’s a natural born beauty. If he were human, he’d be a surfer dude or model, with naturally chiseled features and six-pack abs that he didn’t have to work for. Unfortunately, with such beauty comes the heavy price:

Severe car anxiety and extreme pack drive anxiety.  Loki always happily and calmly gets into the car, but once we start driving, he goes into a full-on panic attack. And he never stops. It’s the kind of anxiety that just makes your heart bleed while simultaneously wanting to reach around the back and smack the crap out of him.

This weekend we took him and Juno on their first road trip to Lugano.  I was armed with his new seat belt harness and a bottle of Acepromazine left over from our travel from Zurich airport to Morges back in August. Back then, he didn’t need it–probably because Mr. Wild Dingo and I gave him full attention for the 4-hour trip while someone else drove. But 20 minutes into our own 4-hour drive to Lugano, Mr. Wild Dingo and I couldn’t take it another minute so we narc’d him.

Even on the ACE, he didn’t sleep. He continued to moan and yip lowly as if he desperately wanted to keep going but didn’t have the energy.

A well-behaved gentleman all weekend, he sat calmly under cafe tables, walked confidently through busy shopping areas and happily greeted the boisterous Italians who doted on him.  But his extreme pack-drive anxiety drove him into small fits of panic when any one of us (Juno included) separated from the pack to go to the bathroom or inside a building. Ironically, his Iron Dog certification involved a 2-minute down-stay-out-of-sight–where I would disappear and he would have to stay in his down. But those tests were on familiar territory.

A home-body, the opposite of Juno’s adventurous spirit, Loki prefers his own back yard to adventures in new places. It took weeks for him to go for a walk with me when he first came to live with us.

They say dogs don’t have memories. I’m not sure I agree with it. Does the memory of his first owner abandoning him as a puppy by car live in his cellular biology causing conditioned muscular tension and even panic attacks? Perhaps.

But none of that matters. All three of us are going to continue to turn his world upside down. Because it’s good for him. And because I’m mean that way.

Oh yeah, her body language meets all the cracker criteria. She ran circles around the yard like she had ants in her jodhpurs.   Juno’s inner-cracker is re-emerging. And that’s a great sign. 

Juno’s Physical Torture Therapy is going great. She’s had two water-treadmill sessions and already she’s up to 15 minutes on it. On her second visit, her therapist noted that her strides were longer, which is good. Apparently her hamstrings are too tight so after all daily exercises, I stretch them for her. She is also up to 50 minutes of bike-jogging with me. We started bike-jogging 3 weeks ago at 10 minutes. We go up to three times per week. She goes much slower than Loki but each time she gets a little faster.  I let her pace herself and she stops when she needs to.

We finally received the Walky Dog bike leashes, but I found biking one dog at a time is pretty easy to do unleashed so he or she can pace him/herself rather than me pacing and not really knowing when it’s time for a rest stop.  Yesterday, while bike-jogging Juno, I saw a horseback rider so I leashed her and rounded the corner. We walked by the rider without one cry or pull of her leash. Other than cats and rodants, I have no fear of her being aggressive to any other type of animal. Still, I’d prefer she’d ignore them so I was very pleased she was able to control herself.

Seperately, Juno and Loki are a piece of cake to handle on or off-leash around temptations. Together, they egg eachother on.  Juno typically will be the first to break obedience and Loki cannot stand to see her break so he breaks in order to herd or correct Juno. He finds out he can’t, so he returns to me. So for now, I’ll continue to bike-jog them separately off-leash. I also found a name of a trainer who will work the dogs next to horses thanks to my vet and hope I can carve out some time for this.

For those who’ve asked, that patch of fur she’s missing was from her MRI and lumbar tap last month. It’s interesting that we’ve gone through so many diagnostics only to come full circle back to the same conclusion we did last year: she needs lots of various exercises. All the long walking in the world wasn’t helping her. Since she’s been bike-jogging, she’s had so much more mobility, her “sit pretty” is very solid and she’s starting to sit more squarely. She’s also using her bed at night more often than the floor. When she’s in pain she prefers to be stretched out on the floor. Now she’ll curl up in her bed. Also curious, she uses her back legs and paws now to scratch her ears like a normal dog. She’s never really done that and quite frankly I noticed that after the gold beads and osteopath work. I believe the gold beads and osteopath help tremendously with pain but ultimately muscle build up in her legs is required for her to be stable and keep pain away.

Juno also lost some weight and she needs to lose more. I’m just thrilled she’s feeling good enough to get her cracker back on.

Unfortunately Mr. Wild Dingo rarely gets to see this side of her because Juno enjoys playing the sullen, aloof Siberian around him. So for Mr. Wild Dingo’s sake, here she is putting the smack down on Big Bad Boy:

“My name is Juno. Hear me ROAR!”

“Cupcake, don’t let your mouth start something your head can’t stand!”

“Welcome to the University of Siberian Smack-Down!”

“Where I shall school you in taking a beating.”

“That’s it Daddy-O, grab all the scruff , while you still can.”

“Don’t sweat it dollface. I have plenty of chompers in this here mouth.”

“Stud, if you’re big enough, you don’t need them …”

” … And if you need them, you’re not big enough to push me around.”

Last Wednesday, I hit an all-time low in my few years as a dog-handler, dog-owner and dog-protector when Juno gave chase to a horseback rider. I wouldn’t exactly say she chased them as much as she followed them, gingerly, running along side them and stopping when they stopped and trotting when they trotted. * Loki also participated in Juno’s “bright idea” at first, but returned to me within 60 seconds after he had gotten off a few woofs. Knowing I could not correct him for coming back to me, I bit my tongue as I re-leashed him and went after Juno. For 10-15 minutes, Juno followed the horse and rider, pasture after pasture, until she finally got winded and gave up. Thank dog, nobody got hurt. Most of all, the horse or rider.

*NB: To answer Brooke’s question below: no Juno never barked or tried to bite or attack. The only thing she’s capable of attacking is a loaf of bread.

For the record, I would have never had them off-leash if I had seen the horse and rider. They literally appeared out of nowhere even after I could see for miles that there was nobody in sight.

Both dogs have been trotting off-leash for sometime now under the condition that there is no animal (wild, livestock or domestic) and no person in sight that they could potentially bother and that they recall to me when I recall them.

Here’s Juno recalling because I see a farm worker at the car up ahead.

And here they are heeling past the car.

Here they are patiently waiting to be released  as the tractor had just passed us.

On numerous occasions, they both recall out of play with strange dogs who appear off-leash and charge up to us. On those occasions when both dogs are leashed, I typically release only Loki, if it’s a big dog and neither is showing any sign of aggression, knowing that he will recall even if it takes a quick play-bow or one round of a chase game. It takes the stress-level down a huge notch for all of us when I release him when there’s a strange dog right in our faces. 

“Hey pip squeak, nose off my jodhpurs!”  
Above, both dogs had been called out of play with the little tyke who continued to harass them as they ignore him.

They’ve always recalled under those circumstances and heel by my side to pass all people and if by farms or dogs, then on-leash. 

I always wondered if Juno’s hip dysplasia was what kept her inner-Siberian at bay during off-leash walks. While I’m prepared to hear all the “I told you so’s” from all the Siberian owners, last week’s 15-minute run merely proved the opposite  since she’s never been exposed to horses or livestock before moving here. Up until now, it has not been her physical challenge but her obedience that has been keeping her from giving into her natural instinct. The unfamiliar excitement of a horse pushed her far enough to show me she can run if she wanted to.

And so the search will begin for a trainer who can help me condition obedience around livestock.

Mr. Wild Dingo constantly asks me why I even bother writing about the dogs. While he enjoys the humor, he’s put off by the boring realities of dog-handling.  Until a reader sent me this email below:

Dear Julie,

Somehow, while dog-blog  surfing, I’ve stumbled to this little gem. At first I was charmed by your (and the dogs’) wit and humour. Oh did it get me a-cackling and dare I say, LOL-ing away on the computer!

But as I kept reading, I find that your blog strikes a chord with me. Your dogs do, actually. Reading between the lines, I understand that your dogs aren’t the perfect dogs those darn Disney movies would like us to believe all dogs are. Neither is mine. And more often than not I get frustrated with her, angry with her, throw my hands in the air and give up because she isn’t the loving angel she was supposed to be.

But you! You took a higher route. Changed what could be changed and yet accepted their personality, flaws and everything. Reading your blog has thought me an important lesson in patience and more importantly acceptance.

Summer (my girl) thanks the cookie oven that I found you in the Internet sea of codes!

 Christyna

Thank you Christyna, for the kind words at just the right time. Now I know why I continue to write this blog including the good, the bad and the ugly.  Being honest about who my dogs are is half the battle. Finding serenity to accept what I can’t change about them and courage to change what I can is the other half.

“Yah but we’re betting Mom doesn’t have the wisdom to know the difference!”

Mr. Wild Dingo often comments that I portray Loki as dumb. Then I remind him that it was he who nicknamed him Retardo Montalban. And as much as I’d love to use that name on this blog, I know it is a wee-bit politically incorrect. But it sure doesn’t stop me from using it at home.

And no, I’m not one of those people who doesn’t take the time to do any consistent training with a dog and then shrugs and says, “My dog is stupid because he doesn’t know how to (fill in the blank).”   The truth is Loki is wicked book-smart. All I have to do is get out a few training tools and he’s in. He loves to guess at what I want from him and it’s very easy to teach him anything. Inspired by the Jack Russel on YouTube doing house chores, I taught him to shut all my kitchen cabinets in less than 20 minutes and transfer it to other doors and drawers in the house. And if I had more time, I would teach him tons more and he would love it. He learns very fast and has a very long memory. Unfortunately for him, I just happen to run out of ideas of what to teach.  He’s in it for the self-esteem of learning more than the reward. Unless the reward is a tug, then he’s in it for that. 

For example, the other day I retraced our walking trail from the day before because I lost my hat. Loki, having done a little SAR and article search training, immediately found it. I didn’t even ask him to, he just did his job and as soon as he caught the human scent he pointed/alerted to it.

“You want me to find your hat again? Geesh, this is such a no brainer.”
In the above photo, he reinacts the find. The hat is just around the corner to the right.  

“Hmm. This smells like you Mom!”  Someone had found it and placed it on this post.

“Hey mom, I’ll trade you, a tug for your hat!”

This time (during the reenactment) instead of laying down by it or picking it up to bring it to me (both acceptable behaviors), he grabbed it and played with it. Serves me right for leaving my rewards at home. And that’s why my hat is dirty.  Sigh. I wish he had a better owner. He could be a better dog.

Juno on the other hand, takes much longer to grasp anything I’m teaching her. Though she’s equally motivated to learn (she leaps from her down when it’s her turn to learn whatever I’m teaching that day), it just takes many more repetitions and she often resorts to prior tricks that get her a reward. By the way, she is EXCELLENT at search. But that’s another post.

Their minds are completely opposite of eachother. Juno’s not book-smart. But boy she has a lot of common sense. And this is where Loki is, well, for lack of a better term, Retardo Montalban. For example, just look at all the effort he goes through to reach a very simple goal because he’s, well Retardo Montalban.

“Oh My Dog! That water is moving! It’s gonna get me!” Loki squeals on his brakes and turns around at the first sign of the wee-waves.

“Must dig…must dig!”
Near the water’s edge, he gets silly. I have no idea what he’s up to.

“Crap! I’m outta here!”
The wave comes in and he bolts. Juno mean time is calm as a cucumber and strolls through the water, taking the occasional sip from the cold, clear, clean Lac Leman (Lake Geneva).

“Get back Lac Leman-ness Monster!”
Juno’s all, “WTF is your problem dude?”

“I’m outta here again Princess!”
“Seriously Big Boy?”

“Must dig! Must dig!”
I still have no idea what he’s up to. At this point, I think he’s just being compulsive and acting out some anxiety. Which is not uncommon for him.

“I know it’s down there!”
“Ok, now I’m intrigued Big Boy. Did you SAR something again?”

“Hey Mom, can you believe this joker?”
“This is no joke Princess! I’m serious!”

“Ok, I give up. Why did you dig so hard in order to do your SAR thing?”

“I’m so thirsty! This is so delicious.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Without a doubt, he specifically dug a whole in order to get a drink of the water from the lake without going into the scary lake, dog-forbid he should get his feet wet or the boogy-man in the lake should get him.

“You mean to tell me you did ALL THAT WORK just for a drink of water that you could have gotten less than a foot away without any work?”
There was no doubt in my mind he had that goal from the very beginning with all the water he drank.

“Yes but Princess, the Lac Leman-ness Monster is constantly moving that lake and he’s gonna get me!”

“Oh Big Boy, you know I tease you about the Lac Leman-ness monster, right? I mean, you really believe my tale?”

“Tale or no tale. I don’t like all that movin’ around that water does! And this water here is delicious.”

“Ok, you convinced me. Maybe I should try it and see if it’s any better than the lake.”
“It is Princess! Because the Leman-ness Monster is not moving it!”

“Dude, it tastes exactly the same over here. And the lake isn’t even moving that much.”

“No way sister. I’ll just stick to my controlled water source, minus the Leman-ness Monster!”

And with that he sprang into his favorite yoga pose.  Remember from his days in Santa Cruz, his side crow poses?

Well here it is from the back side:

And this is why we proudly call him Retardo Montalban. And we mean that in the nicest way. (wink-wink) Bien sur!

In Cooking News

The chicken marsala rocked! Early culinary critics agree. The chicken and mushrooms melted in my mouth. I used a very expensive dry Italian Marsala. I actually opened the bottle to try it though I had a bottle of Marsala already opened.

Unfortunately my risotto did not. The recipe called for 1/2 teaspoon of pepper and that was way too much so it tasted bad to me, but it would have been passable had it not been for the pepper. In addition, this particular risotto was supposed to come out light and flaky and this came out sticky, which also passable for risotto but it would have been nice if it were light and flaky. It was my first risotto. I knew it was not a great side dish for the Chicken Marsala, as the flavors were too different, but I wanted to try it anyway.

The  Marsala is definitely a keeper. I’ll probably add some butter next time to lighten the color of the sauce. I don’t even like chicken much and I had a hard time sharing it with the critics.

Mr. Wild Dingo is traveling, that meant the second piece went some for the critics and some for left-overs.  Four paws up from the critics!

And Finally some Reader FAQs

No meat stock?
Technically I have found chicken and beef stock. It came in a small jar of barely two cups of stock and it seems more concentrated than stock I’m used to. It was $6 for that small jar! There are no Swansens over here. Serendipitously, I found out that the Swiss were the one’s who invented the Bouillon cube.  Seriously, the makers of Nestle were the first to put it on the market. As Chef TravelMax pointed out, “I’m not surprised. Another Swiss efficiency.” Unfortunately for real cooks, this is one efficiency that is a faux pas. So I bucked up and paid $6 for the two cups of stock. Since it seems quite concentrated, I added 2 cups of water which is fine for Risotto.

Are Juno’s Gold Beads Not Working?
Yes and no. We’ve seen moderate changes in her behavior and pain. But its not enough for us. We’d like to see more and so we are back with the holistic doctor. But it’s likely we’ll be going down the path of THR soon. It’s just a matter of exhausting holistic options, especially since it’s the holidays, there’s really not much we can do now until they are over and guests who are coming are gone.

Are there dog parks in Switzerland?
NO! Not at all! The Swiss are not at all inclined to let mere humans make judgements about whether their dogs can be off-leash. For real. And I have to say I don’t disagree with them.  I have a love-not-love relationship with dog parks.  I prefer very large open parks with  very little visibility of where the fence line is and tons of walking trails where Loki can casually say hello to other dogs (which he does well) and keep on walking with me rather than fret about who’s coming into the gate and acting like a lunatic (and not a good way). I think most of the U.S. does a poor job with dog parks and the ones they have probably should not exist. On the rare occasions I do go to them, its usually for training or for a play date at a low traffic time.

And finally: Are you just trying to make us all sad? All the beautiful scenery AND good food.
Yes.

“I had some words with the labrador up the street who I’m certain was in ca-hoots with the labrathugs in Mango’s  ’hood.”

Yes, you read that right. Loki got his cracker on. It seems barking at the neighbor’s dogs in their own fenced yard is frowned upon here in Switzerland. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to pay them back for all the times they bark at us when we walk by their house. An accidentally opened door at the wrong moment was just what he needed.

“It’s not my fault my ears are relentlessly huge and sensitive to that labrathug blabbering on and on all the time while I’m forced to keep my yapper shut. Carpe doggie diem is what I say.”

So both dogs got a little brush up training on door manners. Let’s just say when I open the door now, well, both dogs drop instantly to the down. Boo wah ha ha ha ha ha!

“I got your back, big guy. And I’m trying really hard to be cool. Am I worthy yet?”

*NB: No foam was created in the cracker-y incident mentioned. No labradors were foamed upon in the making of this post. Foam included for special effects and coolness.

Rarely, do I ever catch Juno looking like or acting like a goofball, or worse, cracker. She’s much too sly for the camera to catch her looking less than perfect. But every now and then, I’m able to catch her behaving just as cracked out as Loki, who is pretty much cracker whenever he’s not sleeping. Because Juno’s muzzle is so much smaller than Loki’s, she has to pull her lips all the way back, exposing her gums in order to leverage good “bitey-face” action with Mr. Big Yapper himself, giving her the appearance of being extra cracker.  

First Juno warms up with a little flirting. She approaches the bad boy and moves her head side to side sweetly:

“Hey handsome, how about a little bitey action?”

“Sugar lips, you don’t have the equipment to take on bitey-face with me!”

Then she’s had enough and the crackerness begins:

“Hey Daddy-O, it’s git-down time.”

“Bring it on Cupcake!”

“Hold onto your chair and don’t step on no snakes, baby.”

Don’t let her big gum and fang shots fool you, she’s just kidding… I think.

“Hit the bricks buster! That territory is off limits.”

“Now you’re just cruisin’ for a bruisin’ Big Boy!”

“Awe…geez! You’re all over me like a cheap suit!”

“Ya? So, how do you like them apples?”

“I’m gonna open up a can of whoop-ass on your keister, Big Boy!”

“That’s right Big Fella. Who’s your Momma?”

“Cupcake, you’re so cute when you’re tough.”

“I’m so over it.”

“Ready to go again, studly?”

Turn down the volume!

And that was him in a quiet mood.

Hm. Think. THINK. THINK!  Who could have called from my telephone and complained about scary chicken legs?

“It wasn’t me. I pity da chicken who isn’t fearful of a Sibe! Nom. Nom. Nom.”

Let’s see. Here are some raw chicken legs I prepared for the dogs a few weeks ago. The one on the right is for Loki. He hasn’t had any luck eating raw meaty chicken bones, so one of the legs is hammered and broken up to help him along.

 The one on the left is for Juno, who has no trouble devouring those whole legs.

“WTF is THAT? It’s red and scary!”
Looks like we found our anonymous caller.

“Big Boy, why are you freaking out? These chicken legs are the bomb!”

“See first you put one on the floor to piss off Mom so she has to mop the floor. Then you put the other in your mouth and chew it up to clean your toofers.”

“Be sure to switch sides so both sets of toofs get nice and clean!”

 ”And she calls ME the barbarian! Look at her chomp into that beastly thing.”

 How can a dog, who goes from eating a raw recreational bone like this (taken from last year):

 Suddenly be terrified of a raw chicken leg:

 ”I’m so not goin’ near that thing! It’s gonna attack me!”
Seriously Internet, can he get any further away from his dinner bowl?

I made the switch to a raw diet about a year after adopting the dogs. Juno’s teeth were horrific when I first adopted her. They were coated with tarter, completely, and she was just shy of 1 years old. No amount of good grain-free kibble, bully sticks or greenies helped. So I made the switch to raw. At the time, I found out I was moving here to Switzerland, so I didn’t bother joining a co-op to get deals on raw meaty bones and instead bought pre-made patties made from crushed meat, organs, bones, with a few veggies and fruits. I also used Honest Kitchen to supplement with veggies and fed a recreational bone once per week. Juno’s teeth cleaned up within a month.  Both dog’s breath became amazing too. It’s always been a pleasure to receive a kiss from them.

I always thought I’d make the jump to feeding raw meaty bones and the original BARF diet (rather than frozen BARF patties) when I moved and could shop appropriately. Apparently Loki had other plans:

“Hmm. I don’t know what this is. It’s a little scary lookin’! I don’t even want my paw to touch it!”

Now let me say that Loki eats plenty of cooked chicken and raw chicken in his old chicken patty mix I had fed before.  So it wasn’t the chicken.  I tried hand feeding only the meat.

 ”Um, this is not flavored with rosemary or lemon butter so I think I’ll wait for the main course. Thanks anyway.”

Anyone who is familiar with the BARF (Bones and Raw Meat) diet knows that the Raw Meaty Bone is the back bone (no pun intended) of the diet. The bones must be raw and not cooked as cooked bones are brittle and can cause damage.  The dog is served a raw meaty bone every day and it’s supplemented with other meat, a certain percentage of veggies,  fruits and offal (organs) either in one meal or over a course of the week. For example on one day you’d feed a RMB and offal. On another day you’d feed RMB and veggies and so forth.  Or you could just feed a specific percent of each in every meal.

But I could not for the life of me get Loki to eat Raw Meaty chicken bones–which is the cheapest you can buy and essentially the bulk of what one would buy for a weekly diet. Come to think of it, back in California, he wouldn’t eat a chicken neck either. It was obvious he enjoyed his ground meat and bone patties. And here he would eat ground beef and cooked chicken. The raw bones are what give bulk to the digestion in addition to cleaning their teeth. Too much meat, not enough bone, is well, not fun picking up on the other end, if you catch my drift.  Given that Loki was having a dickens of a time adjusting here, and had allergies to the pollen, I really didn’t want to rock his boat more by stressing him more with “skipped meals” in order for him to break down and eat whatever I gave him.

I panicked. I needed a reliable, staple foodsource I can give daily. If he wasn’t going to eat basic chicken I had no idea what I was going to feed because finding cheap source of beef and bones was difficult.   There was no way I was going back to kibble from the success I’ve had feeding raw. My last resort would have to be me griding meat and bones down. Mr. Wild Dingo laughed at the notion of me grinding meat.

I totally expected to find really good stuff here. I was told “Europe is so progressive in pet care.” Ha! What a joke. No pet food store close to me sold anything remotely close to BARF or even decent grain-free kibble. Some European pet food companies on the Internet  claimed to be “natural” or “raw” but there is always quite a bit of “cereals” in their ingredient mix. With no attempt to explain “cereals” there was no way I was going to buy into it. Sure I feed wheat to the dogs, usually a piece of bread or pizza from my plate, but I don’t like making it a staple ingredient in their diets. I mean, I’d love to make ice cream the staple of my diet, but that’s just not practical is it?

After scouring the Web (and I mean scouring, countless hours, days and weeks), I found Buon Viando, a meat manufacturer who sells pre-made ground sausages made of raw meat, bones and offal for dogs and cats. The company stands behind the BARF diet and truly believes in it for cats and dogs.  They offer a variety of Swiss raised beef, chicken, rabbit and horse. The company is located near Lucerne but delivers to my canton once per month. A representative returned my call to answer all my questions about their products, how they were packaged and sold. She was very polite and appologized several times for her poor English. As if. Her English was perfect. My German begins and ends at ”Danke.”

The only catch was they deliver in quantities of 22 kg boxes (or 44 sausages of ground product). For free delivery, you need to order 3 boxes. I didn’t have a freezer that would fit that much product, so we ended up buying 2 freezers and sticking them in the basement.  The price is very reasonable at about $3-4 per meal. That’s actually not too bad considering the amount of time it would take for me to find a reliable cheap source, then take the time to grind meat weekly or monthly.

When I placed my order, I expected to wait 2 weeks before they delivered on their normal route. Two days later they called and said they could deliver right away. I had to quickly use up all the meat in our freezer that I bought to hold us over to make room for the delivery. I made my first bolognese sauce for us to use up the ground beef. I also ordered what I thought would be 5 veal bones. They were 8 CHF (essentially $8) so it made sense to me that if they were large enough, it would be one big bone. After all, in the states you could buy a femur or knuckle bone for $5-$6.  But this is what I received:

Eat your heart out BARF feeders! TEN veal bones for $8. Since I bought FIVE, that meant I had 5 bags of 10 (or 50 total) raw meaty veal bones. Yummy.

And look who’s eating this Raw Meaty Bone:

 ”Ya, this is delicious. What’s the big deal? I’ll eat this no problem-o!”
I wonder if he knows this is the same thing as the chicken leg, but it’s, um beef. Don’t tell him!

 This is what one of the sausages looks like before I prepare it.

 The above is the beef version. I also bought a chicken and a beef/heart combination to make up for 3 boxes.

Above is the chicken mixed with random vegetables, Megaderm (a concentrated Fish oil with Omega 3 for his skin allergy), his shen calmer (his cracker kryptonite), and a small dose of extra virgin olive oil. Olive oil is a source of vitamin E which helps activate the Omega 3. Both are excellent for dogs with itchy skin inflammation.

I’m no longer feeding the Missing Link in the photo. Though it is excellent and has some awesome ingredients, it’s main ingredient is Flax seed, which can be questionable in dogs with skin allergies or inflammation. When I first fed Missing Link, I gave it with fish oil and their coats were awesome. But without fish oil,  the flax seed is probably not a good idea and can cause inflammation and itchy skin. Who knew? Not me. Fish oil for humans or dogs is extremely hard to find here. I finally found a great source at reasonable price.

Yes, I am THAT mean and make them wait before they eat.

“Oh My DOG! This is delicious!”
Looks like success to me.

Loki cleans his plate. In fact every night now, he’s back to being excited about dinner and not cautious at all about it attacking him. It would kind of stink if you thought your dinner might eat you before you ate it, huh?

Well, almost clean. But I’ll take it. Juno usually cleans up whatever he leaves behind. Usually he doesn’t leave this much.

I confess, feeding a BARF diet isn’t easy at first. There is a method to the madness and there is such a thing as feeding too much bone or too much meat. And I’m still working out the right amounts. I even found a great holistic German online store that sells organic treats, herbs and oils that also sells ground up beef bone to add to a meat diet. I add that into their mix as well. In addition to cleaning teeth and providing bulk for their poo, bone provides a source of calcium. So if you feed raw meat, you really absolutely MUST feed ground bone or a source of calcium to the dog.

Recently, I had some left over Lamb chop that had bone in it in the freezer. So I figured I’d take a shot and see if Loki would eat it and gave it to them with only half a Buon Viando sausage mix:

“Oh my, this is quite delicious mom!”
SCORE!

“THAT’S what I’m talkin’ about!”
Like the Sibe wouldn’t fall for a raw meaty bone of any caliber.

“Oh my dog, I’ve died and gone to doggie heaven! I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about chicken legs attacking me again!”

I have to admit, the dogs love it. I also feed cooked brown rice with it some days because brown rice is a natural anti-allergen.  I’m relieved to have a staple “go to” meal I can feed the dogs and supplement it with lots of other stuff I can find at the store on sale. I plan to continue raw meaty chicken bones for Juno since she loves them, and will also include beef soup bones, lamb or anything else I can find. Buon Viando provides tripe and heart as well. I admit I hate feeding tripe or organs as I’m easily grossed out by them, but I do in limited quantity. Instead of relying on tripe, I add in crushed fresh veggies which mimics what you may find in green tripe. (Eeewww!) In addition, a few days per week, instead of a whole meat/bone sausage mix, they get a half  a sausage served with salmon, eggs, mackerel, trout, lamb or whatever else I can find to keep the variety going. Loki totally digs salmon and eggs. Juno is a little fussier and only likes the yolk of the egg. Figures.

I’d like to add that this post is in no way to criticize how you feed your dog.

Several years ago, I was a vegetarian. I’m not now due to health reasons, ironically. I also didn’t like cheese. I never have. It’s not a health thing. I just never liked the taste of it.  That made my eating habits a bit noticeable and people would tease me about it, calling me picky.  But nothing infuriated me more than people calling attention to my diet and critiquing it. Choosing a diet is as sacred as choosing a religion. I would rather a dog be in a loving safe home and fed the cheapest kibble on the market than starving on the street. I fed kibble for years and chose a really good grain-free brand. I suppose if I was in a bind, I’d find a good grain-free one and do it again. But I have so much success at raw I don’t want to. And the dogs really  love it.

Just look at their chompers:

We used to call Loki’s teeth the Clooneys because they  are so white just like George Clooney’s teeth.

Truthfully, Juno’s front canines still have a fine line of tarter near the gum line, but her molars are clean. Considering her teeth were completely brown when I got her (wish I had a photo, even Mr. Wild Dingo remembers and he never lies), I’ll take this as success.

Both dogs love their recreational and raw meaty bones (except for Loki’s weird aversion to raw meaty chicken bones). And nothing gives me more pleasure than to hear them crunch up a bone. But no, I would never criticize how someone feeds their dog. With one exception. Nothing makes me sadder than a person who’s chosen to make their dog a vegetarian. I can’t believe it, but there are people out there that do it.  While nobody can deny a dog is an opportunistic omnivore, they do have canines, which are meant for eating meat. I don’t think there’s any logic in the world that can convince me that a dog can thrive on a vegetarian diet. But if you have it, feel free to share it.

Sorry Animal Planet. There’s no story here. I’ll be sure to hide my cell phone from the cracker.

Like all stereotypical males, Mr. Wild Dingo enjoys critiquing my driving skills.  Last month I drove Mr. Wild Dingo to the airport. Loki and Juno came with us and provided an eye-opening, err … ear-opening critique of Mr. Wild Dingo’s driving skills. Internet, feel free to make your own judgements. But I feel the impartial critics have spoken. Two out of two backseat driving critics have agreed. Mr. Wild Dingo’s driving skills are hazardous to their health.

And before anyone points out our car is not pet-safe, save your point. A pet-safe car with crates has been on the top of my list and if we weren’t moving, it would have been done a long time ago. No, pet seat belts don’t work with cracker dogs. It took me a half hour to untangle Loki the last time I tried one. And believe me, I’ve tried every adjustment to keep it from tangling. Sigh. Damn cracker.

“Nothing says “I missed you” like pillow entrails. I cared enough to shred the very best.”

I was in Luasanne, Switzerland house hunting for our move this past week. Loki and Juno’s personal chef, entertainer and companion kept me updated on how they handled being without me. “Loki and Juno are doing so well! They’re so well behaved,”  wrote Diane in her e-mails, “I’m going to miss them and I would love to come to Switzerland just to pet sit them!”

Um, sure Diane. And shredding pillows is considered “behaved” in what universe?  Are you sure you want to pet sit them again? Figures they saved the pillow mess just for me. Nobody ever believes me when I say these two are trouble.

“I had nothing to do with this Mom! Swear to dogs!”

Loki and Juno met Diane the week before I left and hit it off with her just fine. Loki even let her take his leash, something he never stands for when I’m around. Dog-forbid anyone but his Mom be attached to him. When Diane left, I warned her that Loki will definitely appear intimidating on her first day. “He’ll bark and act like a cracked-out Cujo ready to eat you,” I told her. “Oh I’m not intimidated by him,” Diane assured me. “He’s quite sweet.”  I smiled knowingly to myself.

Diane’s first email to me read something to the tune of: ”I must admit, I was quite apprehensive approaching the gate with Loki barking aggressively and was a bit intimidated.” Sigh. Do I know my cracker-dog or what?

Loki  has two greetings: Cracked-Out-Cujo, and “I’m your BEST friend in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD!”  By the 3rd visit, they were best pals and Diane wrote: “Loki and I are buddies. Period. He follows me everywhere and I can play with him quite roughly very confidently.” Sigh. Just as expected.

I’m not sure if Juno ever warmed up to her more than approaching her quickly then bouncing away, but at least she wasn’t rude enough to pull a Cujo on her.

I’ll have more later this week with photos from the trip and of the Wild Dingo Estate Abroad. Regardless of the pillow mess, it was great to be home among the endless kisses. 

In the mean time, which one looks guilty to you, Internet? Let me give you a hint. And another hint. And another hint. And, sigh, another hint.

“SHE started it mom!”
“I resent the biasness I am being treated with. Prior convictions have no bearing on this case.”

This is Loki at 4:00 T-time (“T” is for “talk.”)  A few of these days and I’d bet The Herd won’t be able to give him back soon enough!

We can’t go outside and I don’t feel like training. So I decide it’s more entertaining to just bug him.

Loki sure has the gift for gab.

“Hey sugar lips. Looks like I got you behind the eight ball. Are you going to make a move?”
“You must be cruisin’ with your lights on dim if you think you have me cornered.”

“Put an egg on your paw and beat it big boy or I’ll smack you down!”
“Baby, it gives me a large charge when you get mad.”

Tip #1: Always be prepared for the opponent to pounce.

“Hey Daddy-O. It’s git down time!”

Tip #2: Deal out the pre-emptive bite, err, strike.

“Listen sister, you’d better watch how you run your mouth because I have a set of choppers right here, ready to do some collateral damage.”

Tip #3: Ignore opponent’s sass.

“Spare me the hot air tough-guy. You’re just a Schmo from Kokomo.”

Tip #4: Fake her out with the belly-up defense.

“Darlin’,  now that you’ve laid me out, when you gonna bury me?” 

Tip # 5: When the going gets tough, the tough get cracked-out.

 ”Hey cupcake, you’re one step closer to a trip to the croaker!”

The Cracked-Out move is important so lets examine it closely. Notice it is also coupled with sass.

Tip # 6: When all else fails, hightail it and run!

“Pull into the curb, Daddy-O before your dreamboat becomes a battleship.”
“Cupcake, this bird’s gonna pull his freight!”

“WTF are you doing to my Juno Dogtor?” 

Um, Dogtor Hilary, don’t look back. There’s an long-toothed Formosanorous Rex behind you. Stay perfectly calm. I hear they will walk away if you just remain still. Or at least shut their pie hole.

He may tenderize you before he goes in for the kill.

Or he may ask for a low back massage first. That’s the thing about the Formosanorous Rex. You just never know what they will do.

The Siberian Hussy on the other hand … is just shameful.

And usually grants kisses for free.